Lust
by PyroYoshi
Summary: This is a collection of six uncommon or downright rare GTA V one shot pairings. Will contain het, slash and femmeslash. Planned pairings are Michael/Molly, Franklin/Lamar, Ron/Wade, Tracy/Mary Ann, Franklin/Amanda, and Chef/Tracy.
1. 1 Michael and Molly

Author's note: Being a collection of rare pairings, none of these ships will involve Trevor as he gets a good 95% of the GTA V ships. The other characters need love too, especially characters such as Lamar, Tracy, Ron, and Molly because hardly anybody writes pairings involving them.

Seriously. I've seen about three Lamar fics, one or two Tracy fics, and one Ron fic in comparison to the literal billions of Trevor/Michael fics and Trevor/OC fics, and I've never seen a Molly fic.

I felt it was time that these under appreciated characters got some lovin'. Also, even though this story is rated M, the sex scenes aren't that graphic, as I prefer romantic stuff over porn without plot.

* * *

_Fun_. The very definition of that word was foreign to Molly. Life wasn't about fun, it was about starting at the bottom and working your way to the top. She didn't get where she was by having fun.

Though she believed that policy, she couldn't help but feel a little ripped off. She was raised to believe that you could get anything you wanted if you worked hard enough, so why was her endless effort going unnoticed?

She wanted more than money or power; she had plenty of those things. What she truly desired was her boss, Devin Weston. The man was a prick, no doubt about it, but there was some sort of twisted lust and craving there, even if she didn't understand why she was so attracted to him.

Devin was the kind of guy who got the best of everything the world had to offer him. He had twelve different mansions in twelve different countries, he drove the world's sexiest cars and screwed the hottest supermodels ever to walk the Earth.  
And yet, he seemed to find his assistant about as attractive as a nasty case of penile warts. Nothing she did seemed to get his attention. Even if she showed up to work naked and lay sprawled on his desk, he likely wouldn't even bat an eye.

Molly was filled with jealously and even hatred every time she saw him get cozy with some silicone filled bimbo, which happened more than she'd care to admit. What did these empty headed plastic Barbie doll girls have that she didn't? She was a real woman who longed for him, so why couldn't Devin see that?

She was a logical woman, and knew that all problems have solutions. If Devin wouldn't notice her on his own, she was going to exploit his biggest weakness: jealously. If he knew she was banging another man, his jealousy would get the best of him and he'd feel the need to prove himself to her. It was a simple plan, albeit one that had been working for people like her for hundreds of years.

Tonight was the night she was going to set phase one in motion, and the most important factor in her plan was the one and only Michael De Santa.

The secretary would buzz him in soon, leaving Molly with a few minutes to spare.

She activated the webcam on her laptop, hit record, put it on a nearby shelf and carefully arranged it so it was facing her desk. She then rearranged some items on the shelf to conceal the computer but leave the webcam visible.

Barely able to contain her excitement, she sat at her desk and tried to maintain a blasé expression as she waited.

She didn't have to wait long.

The office door clicked open and Michael strode in. He was wearing his usual grey suit, much to Molly's delight. He wasn't as handsome as Devin in her eyes, but he was handsome enough, plus she couldn't resist a man in a suit.

She stood up and pleasantly greeted him. "Thank you for coming, Mr. De Santa. Care for a drink?"

Michael shrugged. "Sure. You have any whiskey?"

"Of course." Molly sauntered over to the nearby minibar and filled a glass for him.

Michael observed her as she did this. She seemed a little more laid back and slightly less robotic, but he couldn't think of why.

He accepted the glass and wasted no time in draining it.

Molly sat on the edge of her desk in a fashion that showed as much leg as possible. "Mr. Weston is very pleased with the work you and your crew have done for him. He's received all five cars and is intensely looking forward to driving them."

Michael leaned back in his seat. "Yeah, about that. We haven't seen one fucking penny. When's he going to pay us?"

"Soon. He needs to test drive all the cars before he can send a payment."

Michael rolled his eyes. He should have known. He had met a lot of assholes in his time, but Devin Weston was one of the biggest. The man had more money than he could hope to spend in his life, yet he felt the need to scam people anyways.

"What a prick. I don't know how you can tolerate working for that guy."

Molly chuckled and hopped off her desk. Enough dawdling and petty conversation, it was time to put her plan in action. She stood behind Michael and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"That's why I called you here. Devin can't pay you now, but I'd like to thank you for your hard work. Of course, merely handing over stacks of cash isn't really my style. I'd like to thank you a little more...personally."

She slid in front of him and sat on his lap, running her right hand through his hair and touching his face with her left. The sitting immediately turned into straddling, and she leaned close and seductively brushed her face against his, taking in every aspect of him as she did so.

At first, Michael didn't know how to react to this. He was trying to be more faithful to Amanda, but moments like these really tested his morals. He still loved Amanda, or at least he thought he did. They had always fought over the course of their twenty year relationship. Wether it was about money, drugs, Trevor, hookers, or Amanda's harem of younger men, they fought monthly, sometimes even weekly.

On the other hand, Molly was completely opposite to Amanda in nearly every way. She was classy, sophisticated, and far too intelligent to be working for an arrogant tool like Devin. As attractive as she was, Michael had a few doubts about the situation, which dwindled every time Molly stroked him.

"Look, I don't know..." he began to speak but was cut off when Molly started gently biting his neck.

Her lips ghosted over his face as she whispered to him. "Forget about Amanda. She doesn't want you anymore. I do. I want you, Michael. Right here, right now, on my desk."

She didn't have to say anything else, as what remained of Michael's guard was shattered.

He thought about Amanda. He thought about all the screaming matches, about all the affairs she had, about all the other men she fucked behind his back. The pool boy, the Guatemalan gardener, both of the mailmen, Jimmy's third grade teacher, the list went on and on.  
Screw it. If she could cheat, why couldn't he? Sure, he had nailed some hookers on the side, but unlike his wife, he had never had an affair.

His mind was made up, he couldn't say no to Molly. There was a tiny part of him telling him to back out, but his hardening length was telling him to go ahead guns blazing. Quitting was for pussies. If she wanted him so bad, she could have him, whenever she wanted and for as long as she wanted. He didn't even think as he responded.

"Okay."

Molly bit her lip as she smiled. She reached out and slowly unbuckled Michael's belt, then swiftly yanked his pants down to see what he was packing.

"Hey! I didn't think you were going to pants me like that! Jeez, you're worse than Trevor." Michael spoke with slight annoyance, but made no effort to cover up.

Molly grinned approvingly. "Mmm. Seven and a half inches. Not bad, Mr. De Santa."

She unbuttoned her grey slacks and turned her ass towards him as she slid them down to reveal a pair of silk panties, which she wasted no time in removing. Instead of kicking them off, she let them hang from one foot.

She took Michael by the hand and led him back to her desk, instructing him to climb up with her.

Her desk was on the large side, and it would accommodate the two of them quite nicely. Cups were knocked to the ground and papers were scattered as she laid on her back and he eagerly thrust into her.

For several days before their 'appointment', Molly had spent a good chunk of time wondering what Michael was like in bed. Was he rough and dominant, slow and loving, or somewhere in between?

She now had the answer to that question, and it was one she found herself enjoying immensely. He wasn't overly rough, but wasn't too clumsy and unconfident either. In fact, his pumping speed was just right, about as close to perfect as one could get.

She leaned up and passionately french kissed him. He wasted no time in returning the favor.  
As much as she savored the kiss, she was craving to feel those lips on other parts of her body. In one quick motion, she looked him right in the eye and motioned to her chest.

Michael understood immediately. Still keeping pace, he undid her shirt and slid his hands into her bra, tenderly massaging her breasts as he planted kisses all down her chest. Before too long, he was on the receiving end as well, as Molly's hands squeezed and fondled his ass.

Molly arched her back, dug her nails into his flesh and released an involuntary moan. Goddamn, he was good at this. Some things, such as fine wines, get better with age, and Michael was definitely one of those things. Pulling off masterful heists wasn't his only skill, he'd had many years of experience and knew how to please a woman.

Another moan of pleasure left her mouth as he hit her G spot once more. If he kept this up, she wouldn't be able to last much longer. A few more minutes went by until she couldn't take it anymore and experienced the most powerful orgasm she'd had in years, sending tingling chills up her spine. Not even two seconds later, Michael hit his own climax and came inside her.

Both exhausted and still feeling the effects of their intense orgasms, they separated and laid motionless for a minute as they recovered.

Molly readjusted her glasses, which had been knocked askew in the midst of their causal fuck session. "Wow. I can't lie here, Michael. You're one of the best lays I've had in years."

"I've had a lot of practice, but the feeling is mutual. Let's just say this is the one and only appointment I've ever enjoyed." Michael laughed softly as he bent over to pick up his discarded pants.

The two of them got redressed in relative silence, but Molly's mind was racing. She hadn't thought about Devin even once after Michael set foot in her office. In fact, she had almost forgotten about her original plan.

Did she even want Devin anymore? She wasn't sure. What if he cheated on her with a supermodel half his age? What if he could only last five minutes?

She had to make a decision fast, as Michael was already moving towards the door. She didn't know him that well, but he had treated her better than Devin ever had.

All Devin really had going for him was looks. Truthfully, he was a self centered, pompous ass who was a little too invested in Yoga. Money was his only love, he wouldn't be happy until he was worth more than Bill Gates, Steve Jobs and Mark Zuckerbug combined.

"Michael, wait." Molly swiftly followed him to the door and put a hand on his shoulder. "I really appreciate what you've done for me today, and I'll make sure Mr. Weston pays you. In the mean time, if you'd ever like to make another personal appointment with me, just let me know."

Michael didn't need to be informed twice. He'd schedule an appointment with her everyday for the rest of his years if he could.

"How about two o' clock next Friday?"


	2. 2 Franklin and Lamar

Days in Vinewood hills could get a little lonely, and Franklin was often left alone with his thoughts. His friends dropped by from time to time, but when they left it was just him and Chop alone in his Vinewood Mansion. Chop could express feelings and affections through his actions, but he couldn't speak, which left Franklin with no one to talk to in person. The only thing talking to himself accomplished was making him feel even more empty.

He didn't miss being a three bit gangster, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss his old neighborhood on Strawberry Avenue. Lamar was always bitching to him that he was forgetting about his roots and running away from who he really was, and he just might have a point.

Franklin wasn't happy in his massive house. It was fully furnished including a massive TV, a hot tub, a telescope and a cliffside pool, yet it felt so vacant and hollow. He could see most of Los Santos from his perch, including his old Grove Street stomping ground, which just reminded him of how much he missed it. He wanted to move back, and was thinking about doing so. He wasn't going to miss his neighbors, and he knew the feeling was mutual. They were all self absorbed rich douchebags with five sports cars in the garage and a trophy wife on their arm at all times, none of which were too pleased about living next to a former gangbanger.

At least today he'd have some company. Lamar had called him earlier and said that he needed to tell him something important, so Franklin was going to visit him and bring Chop along.

He locked his front door and then walked around back to collect the dog.

Chop was laying in his doghouse with his front paws crossed, staring up at the sky.

"Come on, Chop. Want to go see Lamar?" Franklin asked.

Chop's ears perked up at that name and he barked in response. He followed his adoptive owner up the steps and into his car, and they drove down to Strawberry Avenue.

* * *

Nervousness wasn't something Lamar was used to feeling, but at the moment it was hitting him full force. He was fidgety, couldn't stand still, and his stomach was clenched in anticipation. Step one was already complete. He could back out now, but he'd have to be smooth about it and pretend that he 'forgot' what he urgently needed to tell his friend.

He was never any good at keeping secrets, be they his own or someone else's, and the one he harbored simply couldn't be kept back anymore. It took him a long time to accept it, but there was no way around the fact that he had a thing for Franklin. They had been close since kindergarden, but for the past several years, he had wanted their friendship to turn into something more. There had been times where he was sure that Franklin returned those feelings due to things he did or said, but those fleeting moments always ended as abruptly as they began.

Lamar had gotten desperate. It was an incredibly stupid move, but he had even let himself get kidnapped by the Ballas in order to be saved by his knight in shining armor. Or rather, his shotgun toting knight in a shining low rider. Unfortunately, that hadn't worked. Franklin, along with Michael and Trevor, did indeed come to his aid, but on the ride home he had gotten a lecture instead of a love proclamation. His only option now was to admit his true feelings, and he wasn't sure if he could do it.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Chop jumped up at him in an attempt to lick his face.

"Hey Chop. You missed me, huh?" he asked as he bent over to scratch the Rottweiler behind his ears. Chop sniffed his hand and barked happily.

Lamar heard footsteps and looked up to see Franklin moseying towards him. Nervousness washed over him again when he set eyes on his friend.

Franklin was wearing a tight white tank top that showcased his completed upper arm and chest tattoos, along with a pair of blue jeans and a green Families hat, and he had clearly been working out judging by the way his clothes fit him perfectly. He was dressed casually, but looked nice. Really nice. Lamar suddenly felt a bit foolish for wearing an oversized green T shirt that was too long even for a tall lanky guy like him.

Franklin reached out to give Lamar a fist bump. "What's up homie?"

"Oh, uh you know, not a lot." Lamar stammered. "I'm just keeping it real."

Franklin rose a brow. "Not a lot? I can read you like a book, LD. You're nervous as hell. You've got something on your mind."

"Yeah. Something important."

"What is it? Someone after you? We can creep on them. I mean, just because I don't live here anymore doesn't mean I won't pop some fools."

Lamar shook his head. "No, it's not that. Niggas don't fuck with me anymore, cause they know I roll with you and those two crazy white dudes you hang with."

"Then what is it, dawg?"

Though he was faking unawareness, Franklin was certain of what Lamar had to tell him. It was painfully obvious that the taller man had feelings for him. Hell, he was willing to bet every single member of the Grove Street Families knew about it.

He thought Lamar's fidgety attitude and his reluctance to spill was actually kind of cute, but he wasn't going to tell him that. At least, not yet. He wanted his friend to make the first move.

"Come on, you can tell me. We're homies for life, remember?"

Lamar shifted uncomfortably, awkwardly tugged at the bottom of his shirt and remained silent. He couldn't say it. It was as if he'd forgotten how to speak entirely.  
What if he was rejected? Despite his big talk, boastful personality, he had never taken rejection very well. He wouldn't be able to cope.

"I've never seen you this quiet. What's the matter, someone cut your tongue out?" Franklin prodded.

Lamar averted his gaze as he accepted defeat and prepared to speak. The worst thing Franklin could say was no. That's what he was trying to tell himself, but his confidence was slipping away. It was so unlike him. He could run into a rival gang meeting and let his shotgun do the talking, but he couldn't tell his best friend he loved him. He was disgusted with himself. Since when did he become such a sissy?

"I uh, I...I fuckin' love you, Franklin Clinton!" he blurted.

Franklin smirked, then laughed softly to himself, but it was in a good nature. "Like I didn't know that already. It is OBVIOUS, LD. The way you follow me around like a little lost puppy and shit. Man, I bet the whole city knows."

Lamar's face fell. He just confessed his biggest secret, and Franklin was laughing at him. Feeling like he had just taken a steak knife to the heart, he backed into the brick wall and hoped the ground would swallow him so he could avoid the humiliation. It was happening, he was getting rejected. He stumbled with his next words.

"...Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't have even said it. I guess I'll just... go jerk off in sorrow or something."

Franklin stopped laughing and instantly felt terrible upon seeing Lamar's reaction, since he hadn't intended to come off in such a fashion. He had merely been playing around. The lanky gangster looked crushed and dejected, almost like he had just lost a loved one. In all his twenty five years, Franklin had never seen Lamar look like that, and he didn't like it one bit.

Before he could stop himself, he reached out and took his friend's hand. He'd be making the first move anyway.

"I never said I didn't love you, you moron."

He didn't even give Lamar a chance to respond before he moved in for a deep kiss.

Lamar's eyes went wide with surprise and he practically melted into the kiss. He was weak in the knees, a feeling which was foreign to him. He had never believed in all that sappy, Hollywood movie kiss bullshit before, but he did now. He barely even noticed when Chop started impatiently nosing his free hand. The dog was clearly confused at what they were doing.

All kinds of emotions washed over him, from joy to confusion about how everyone knew about his lust for Franklin. Was it really that blatantly obvious?

It wasn't everyday that one sees two gangbangers making out, but Lamar didn't care who saw them. He wouldn't even care if Stretch and his army of Ballas happened to walk by at this exact moment.

The only thing he was sure of was that he never wanted it to end.

* * *

Tonya stood at her usual place across the street from Denise Clinton's house. She had been seeing Franklin around a lot over the past several weeks, and he spent a lot of time over at Lamar's house.

She couldn't be happier. His presence meant she could work her flirting magic again and perhaps get into his pants. Or even better, get into a threesome as long as Lamar was cool with it.

Lamar's house was only a few houses down from Denise's, so she sauntered across the street and banged on the door.

"Open up! It's me, Tonya!" She called, as if she was the most important person on the planet.

No answer. She bashed the door again, but no one came to open it. Muffled moaning drifted through it, which could only mean one thing.

Tonya knew that sound all too well. Someone was getting nailed, and hard, judging by the sounds.

She walked around to the backyard and peered in through one of the windows. The curtains were drawn, but she was able to see through the sliver of uncovered glass. What she saw made her almost fall flat on her ass.

Franklin and Lamar were fucking on the sofa in the living room, giving an all new meaning to the word gangbanging. Lamar was wearing nothing but his hat and his dog tag necklace. He was gripping the arm of the sofa as Franklin plowed him from behind, and the expression on his face said that he was close to blowing his load.

"Oh hell no!" Tonya reacted with disgust, but only because it meant she wouldn't be getting a piece of the action.

Despite her disappointment, she couldn't tear her eyes away as she watched the two suck and fuck each other for several more minutes.  
Once both of the gangsters were finished, they remained on the sofa for a cuddle session. Franklin had his right arm around Lamar, who in an extremely rare moment of cutesy behavior, snuggled up close to him.

The fell asleep huddled against each other, both looking very content.

Tonya still stood outside and watched. She simply couldn't get over it. She always had her suspicions that Lamar liked the cock, but Franklin? It completely took her by surprise, and she refused to accept it despite the fact that she had just seen him pounding his childhood friend over the sofa, face down ass up style.

Still, it had been rather arousing to witness. As peeved as she was about the whole scenario, she wasn't sure if she needed to meditate or masterbate.

* * *

Several hours later, Franklin awoke and silently got dressed to avoid awakening Lamar. The lanky, heavily tattooed gangster was curled up on the sofa with his head resting on one of the arms. He looked oddly adorable, and 'adorable' wasn't a word that most people would use to describe him. 'Impulsive' and 'foolish' perhaps, but never 'adorable'.

Franklin smiled to himself. The empty void he felt while spending all those days alone in Vinewood Hills had finally been filled. At first, he had been hesitant to pursue a relationship with Lamar because he was terrified of what would happen if they broke up. He always found it weird to go back to being friends and nothing more after a break up, so he usually didn't even bother.

While that thought scared him at first, he wasn't sure if it was ever going to happen, so he probably wouldn't even need to think about it. Karma was hippy bullshit to him, but it had a funny way of operating.

Perhaps he and Lamar were destined to be together forever even if there would be some turbulence on occasion. After all, they were homies for life.

Franklin emerged from the house and was immediately blinded by Tonya's lime green shirt.

"Hey! Over here, Franklin!" she waved at him from her place in front of the drug store.

Franklin sighed but walked over to her anyways. "You need some cars towed or something?"

"I can't believe you chose Lamar over me." she accused. "What's he got that I don't, huh?"

"What about JB?"

"Fuck JB! You're the one I really want."

Those words sent shivers up Franklin's spine. He'd rather stick his dick in a meat grinder than have a romp with her.

"I am NOT fucking you, Tonya."

Tonya put her hands on her hips. "Why not? Don't act like we ain't fucked before!"

"I was fifteen, and you weren't a crack whore yet. Teenagers do stupid things. Besides, I like bros, not hos." Franklin turned and started walking away.

"One night with me and you'll change your mind!" Tonya called after him.

Franklin kept walking.

* * *

Franklin/Lamar is one of my favorite GTA pairings, period.


End file.
